by PJ Schnyder
“I wish you were here instead.”
His chest tightened. “Believe me, sweetness, I wish I were with you too. Especially right now.”
He reached out to touch the hologram of her, wishing he could run a finger along her cheek, run his hands all over her body.
“Where do you wish I could touch you?” He asked her instead. “Show me.”
She remained still for a long time. It was amazing how still she could be for so long, the way big cats could remain motionless.
“It’s okay,” he murmured. “I’m the only one here.”
Hesitant, slow, she ran her fingertips along her jaw line. Her eyes closed, head tilted up toward the camera, she drew a line down the side of her neck and across the swell of her cleavage.
“That’s it.” He couldn’t take it anymore. Unbuttoning the front of his pants, he wrapped his fingers around his cock. “Where else do you want me to touch you? Use the toy and pretend it’s me.”
Her eyes still closed, she bit her lower lip and turned on the vibrator. Holding it in one hand, hovering between her legs, she touched the tip to her panties.
A delicate shudder ran through her body.
Oh yes.
He hadn’t thought he could get any harder, yet, he was rock solid and aching for her.
She ran the tip of the toy over her panties until he thought the fabric was stained a little darker.
“Are you getting wet, sweetness?” He had to know for sure.
She froze, and without opening her eyes, she whispered, “Yes.”
He groaned. “Good. I’m ready to be inside you. Do you want me inside you?”
There she went, biting her lip again. He wanted to kiss and suck at that lower lip, nibble, then suck again.
“Take off your panties. Let the toy touch you the way you want me to touch you.”
Another hesitation, and then she pressed her knees together and slid her panties off her rear and up and over her bent legs.
“Go on.” He was already stroking himself, wishing she’d turn to show him the luscious folds of her sex but not wanting to make her think too much.
The toy slipped between her legs again and she teased herself with the tip, running it up and down her slit. After a moment she gasped and squirmed.
“Does it feel good?” It felt damn good watching her.
No words. She only nodded.
“I want to be inside you so bad.”
She opened her eyes then, blinking twice as her gaze focused on him. He didn’t bother to hide his erection or that he was rubbing himself as he watched her.
“You are incredibly sexy.” He gave her a smile and loved the one she gave him in return, a little shy, pleased and definitely sensual. “Slide it inside you. Pretend I’m there, inside you.”
“I want you inside me.” It sounded like a plea, but she did as he told her. As she pressed the length of the vibrator inside, she arched her back and gasped.
He began to pump himself harder. The sight of her was almost enough to send him over the edge.
“Take it out and slide it in again. You know you like it.” Words were almost beyond him, but he managed to give her the suggestion.
Watching her reach one hand between her legs to work the toy, her other hand thrown over her head, tangled in her own hair, he pumped himself harder and faster. When she writhed, her chest rose and fell with her heavy breathing, showing more and more of her cleavage.
She cried out, her hand working the toy faster. Her mouth remained open as she panted, inviting.
“Come for me, sweetness. I’m coming.” His throat constricted and his balls tightened. God, he remembered those soft lips, her hot mouth.
Her hologram floated right in front of him, and as her entire body tensed, she cried out.
And he came in a shuddering release.
Chapter Three
Rygard stared at the empty space over his sleeping roll for a long time after Kaitlyn signed off, sleepy and sated. True to his word, he hadn’t recorded the holographic conversation, but damn he wished he had. Extremely private and still so incredibly shy, his girl wouldn’t forgive him for it.
It was the contrast of her that had him so fascinated. Sharp and sweet, aggressive in a fight and shy in bed. He hadn’t really thought a girl like her existed, hadn’t imagined the likes of her until he’d met her on Dysnomia Station.
When he’d re-upped for another tour of duty, he’d tried to keep expectations realistic. Long distance, in his experience, never seemed to work out. Considering their occupations, either of them could have found someone else to catch their interest.
But Kaitlyn had gotten into his blood somehow, a spicy drug and he’d never grown tired of the memory of her. Hell, a three dimensional illusion of her had been more than enough to bring him to satisfaction.
Of a sort.
Didn’t stop the hunger he had for the real her, didn’t take the edge off.
Beyond how much she turned him on, he found himself worrying about her randomly throughout the day, especially when she was working with Terran military. Her captain may have connections high and deep into the chain of command but a lot could happen in out in space. One of these days an officer following orders too close to the letter was going to interpret those in the worst way possible for his girl. But then again, she’d proven to him how very capable she was of taking care of herself. There was something wild about her, nothing to do with her mutated DNA, which gave her the strength and independence to leave her sheltered school days and fly out past the edge of the solar system. No telling where she’d go if she decided to go somewhere. There were the times, deep into the night, when he’d hear something out beyond the boundaries of camp and wonder if somehow she was out there.
Those moments unsettled him.
He’d seen her change, knew what she was, yet the longer he was away from her, the more he wanted to hold on to the memories of her in his arms. The panther part was just a hidden facet, an unfortunate side effect of the hell she’d survived to become an incredible woman.
And she’d been changing in the time since he’d met her. She didn’t seem aware of it, but he’d seen it even in the hologram. She’d long since grown into her delicious curves and her delicate face, but minute changes were still happening in the way her body moved. Sensuality whispered along every curve of her, temptation in motion and whenever she came to rest, pausing for a moment with that perfect stillness of hers, she stole a man’s breath away.
Watching her touch herself for him, stroke herself to climax, pretending he was there with her...she’d done it for him, been willing to step way across the line of her comfort zone for him.
He really was going to hell for instigating that bit of delicious yet excruciating torture.
He caught himself grinning like an idiot.
“You ready, man? Men are mustered, waiting for you.”
Rygard snapped out of his thoughts to see DeSarto peering into the tent. “Yeah. I’ll be out in less than five.”
DeSarto nodded and started to let the tent flap down, hesitated. “Your girl doing good?”
Surprised, Rygard nodded.
“She’s on her way here?”
“Yeah.” Rygard wasn’t annoyed DeSarto was asking, but he wondered what it was about.
“This merc crew has a good rep. Heard good things about Captain Rishkillian. It’ll be interesting to see what she can do when they hit planet-side. Looking forward to it.”
“I’ll bet you are.” Rygard didn’t say more. With DeSarto or any of the other men, it’d be more about actions than any words he could say on her behalf.
And Kaitlyn could definitely step into action.
Since Rygard didn’t rise to the bait, DeSarto gave him a grin and left without further co
mmentary.
Rygard quickly retrieved and disposed of the hidden wipes he’d used to clean up and pulled himself together. The moment he stepped out of his tent, any softness for Kaitlyn melted away. The warmth she’d given him retreated to a tiny sheltered place deep inside and a cold, steady calm was left behind.
Hours remained until their next scouting excursion to the installation where they suspected human slaves were being held. From the number of vessels they’d counted landing and taking off, any captives on this planet were only there long enough to fill the holds of the larger Sketz’es space ships.
In the meantime, DeSarto and he had plans to take a preliminary look around, with an eye for a likely spot to move base camp once Captain Rishkillian’s team arrived with their support detail. The current location succeeded in staying hidden from overflying aircraft and any of the foot patrols they’d seen, but lately there’d been odd noises in the night. The sounds of large predators prowling around the perimeters of the camp despite the repellents designed for biologics in this type of jungle terrain.
“Just swapped watch with the other detail and we’re ready to head out.” DeSarto tossed a small pack to him.
Shouldering the pack, Rygard nodded. “Say we take a sweep south to check out the location up on the plateau. It’d be a good overlook, what with the stand of trees and overgrowth.”
DeSarto grimaced. “It’ll be a bitch to cut out the interior to clear enough space to set up camp.”
“Worth it, for higher ground and good cover.”
His fellow soldier grunted and turned to head out. Rygard wasn’t worried. Lack of argument from DeSarto pretty much amounted to agreement or at least indicated neutrality. Besides, this trip out doubled as a brief between him and his NCO. DeSarto would follow orders, regardless. It was a measure of their friendship when they could make opinions known to each other without blurring the chain of command.
“We’ve got the intel we need to move on the outpost.” DeSarto kept his voice low. No sentients around to hear, but caution was a habit. “The men are itching to take action, stop the next ship.”
“We tag the next outgoing ship and track it to its destination, then take out this outpost and whatever incoming ship arrives next.” Tough decision to make, especially with potentially human cargo on the slaver ship. Considering what DeSarto and the other men had seen, they were all developing a serious hate for the reptilian race known as Sketz’es. He was too, but he wasn’t going to let it cloud his judgment or theirs. “We need to infiltrate their intergalactic black market. Get a better understanding of what other alien races are involved.”
“Sketz’es run the show.” DeSarto spit on the trail. “They send their info casts out on broad bands of communication. Hard to find, questionable? The Sketz’es can obtain it for you, for a fee. Damned lizards fly through space with no one to stop them.”
Fierce fighters with heavy weaponry, the Sketz’es didn’t bother with treaties or peace agreements. They bartered in things they perceived to be of value. If you had something they wanted, you were safe. If you were what they wanted, you better have better fire power than they did.
“There’s no alliance out there, not yet. Terran government is working on it. The other races? Hell, too many out there and not enough knowledge to begin peace talks. Best we can do is gather as much information as we can and get it back home.” The human captives weren’t the top priority in his orders, though Rygard still planned to do his best for those poor souls. The more intel they could gather, the safer Terrans would be as a race.
Terran home solar system, Sol, had solid layers of security starting with the outer most moon stations like Dysnomia and Kerberos. The Terrans had learned from the invasion of Triton Moon Base and enhanced protections to ensure aggressors would never get as close to old Earth again.
“Bastards are heavily armored. We capture one of their ships, we can make sure our fleet is prepared to meet them.” DeSarto hacked at undergrowth spreading across the trail as they moved.
“Yeah, but the colonies are still vulnerable.” Rygard ground his teeth. “Too many of those are easy targets for slave traders like the Sketz’es.”
DeSarto snorted. “Colonists are too excited about room to spread out. They don’t really read the briefing on the dangers out there. Think the Sketz’es are boogey men the Terran government made up.”
“You’re not saying they deserve it?” Rygard stared hard at DeSarto’s back. His NCO could be an ass, but too far was too far.
“Hell no.” DeSarto shot a look back over his shoulder. “Just sayin’ a lot of them head out into the stars bright-eyed and full of dreamy propaganda shit instead of prepared the way they should be. They should be required to have a few retired veterans on their personnel rosters. Have some voice of preparation in their organizations.”
Rygard snorted. Not a bad idea.
* * *
One of the two suns shining down on this planet had set and the other was on its way down to meet the horizon. Double suns meant they enjoyed longer dawns and dusks, with extremely short nights in between. They never did their scouting during the brightness of day because they had plenty of time to gather intel before the pitch black of night descended.
Chitters sounded from somewhere off to his left. Something large moved in the underbrush.
Rygard drew his sidearm. He had a silencer unit on his weapon, so if he had to shoot an indigenous life form, he wouldn’t give away their position. He’d rather not. Some biologist somewhere would be horrified at the idea for sure. ’’Course, his Kaitlyn would shrug and autopsy the corpse instead of questioning his judgment on the necessity. His girl was practical that way.
He shook his head. He needed to keep his thoughts on the situation at hand.
Rustling in the underbrush sounded again, closer and from the other side.
“What the fuck?” DeSarto kept the curse under his breath. He’d drawn his weapon as well and peered through the dense vegetation. More chittering came from all around them, even above. The two men stood back to back and edged toward the camp.
Enough daylight remained, the indigenous predators shouldn’t be out yet. This sounded like a group, a pack of some sort. None of the biologics they’d identified in the region hunted in packs.
Rygard set his jaw and took a mental tally of the weaponry he had. DeSarto’s gear included a couple of extra ammo clips strapped to the back where Rygard could easily reach them. His backpack was configured the same. Together, they had enough ammo to hold off a group of wild animals, especially if they could get some cover.
The strange chittering noise came again, closer, and they both whipped around in opposite directions, tracking the sound. He saw only rustling, moving shadows, nothing clear at which to take aim.
Shit.
And then the silence fell and all they could hear was their own breathing and accelerated heart rates. They were being hunted and Rygard was beginning to wonder at the intelligence of their hunters. A random pack of wild things would have charged. They wouldn’t have stalked him and DeSarto this way. Would they? He stepped to one side, trying to head down the trail toward some sort of cover with DeSarto at his back.
An inhuman screech split the silence, quickly followed by a human cry in the distance. A man’s shout cut short in a gurgling rush. It had to have been one of his men on sentry duty back at camp.
He and DeSarto broke into a shuffling run, careful to remain back to back and keeping their eyes on the shadows in the undergrowth, the both of them too experienced to rush at top speed. If they turned and ran toward their fallen man, they’d both be dead too.
A dark shape detached itself from a tree trunk high above their heads. It landed on the path between them and camp, darted back into the plants before either of them could get off more than a shot. Another dark shape streaked past from a different di
rection.
Rygard had a fleeting impression of eyes, frighteningly human eyes.
The third rush came from the same direction as the second, swift and vicious with no pattern, no logic. DeSarto went down under a flurry of arms and legs and wild chittering. Rygard swung around, ready to fire but he couldn’t get a shot in without risking shooting his partner. All he could make out was dark fur, misshapen faces. Humanoid but more primate than man. He tried to make sense of the mess of hairy limbs grappling with uniformed arms as DeSarto struggled. Abruptly, Rygard realized why DeSarto wasn’t recovering as quickly as he should’ve. Ropes crisscrossed the other man, restricting his movement.
Wild things, non-sentients, didn’t use nets. They didn’t build traps.
The cool calm he normally kept in battle rippled. These weren’t simple predators hunting in packs. This was a coordinated ambush.
He kicked out hard, taking the risk of hitting DeSarto, and experienced a momentary triumph when his boot made contact with soft fur instead of the armored vest of his friend. The attacker crumpled under the force of impact. As the thing rolled away, more shadows streaked toward them and Rygard shot two more mid-charge. Cold settled in Rygard’s gut as he picked out more incoming from the treetops. They’d be outnumbered in seconds. He unsheathed his belt knife and tossed it down so DeSarto could cut himself free while he covered them both.
The camp had come under full attack by now. The only giveaways were from the chittering and occasional inhuman shriek or the strangled noise of a surprised man. Their unit had been seasoned in battle and all of them fought as silently as possible but against this many strange attackers, caught by surprise and on the defensive, they could only maintain their own silence. These...things crashed into everything. Through tents and toppling equipment, throwing tables and crates, anything they could get a grip on. Their numbers were too many. The soldiers were past holding their ground, struggling just to keep their footing and survive. Someone had to get a call out to Rishkillian’s ship and warn the incoming team. As soon as DeSarto got to his feet, the two of them skirted the camp. They made their way to the communication tent and cut a new entrance in the side to gain access. DeSarto guarded his back as Rygard fired up the communication relay and coded in the message. He cursed as he briefly fumbled with the keyboard, his reflexes too fired up. For a moment, he wished for Kaitlyn’s friend Boggle and the way the man’s fat fingers flew across the terminals. Taking a steadying breath he got the message out on a secure transmission, setting it to loop.
